


Ague

by gardnerhill



Category: Sherlock Holmes & Related Fandoms, Sherlock Holmes - Arthur Conan Doyle
Genre: Community: watsons_woes, Early Days, Fever, Flashbacks, Gen, Hallucinations, Hurt/Comfort, Illnesses, Malaria, Prompt Fic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-05-12
Updated: 2013-05-12
Packaged: 2017-12-11 15:16:24
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 600
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/800156
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/gardnerhill/pseuds/gardnerhill
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Some things stay with you from a tropical warzone.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Ague

He felt the desert heat well enough, but for some reason his shot arm did not hurt as badly as he thought. It was blistering, a furnace. He rolled in the sand, fearful. Orderly, his orderly, where – "Murray. Murray! Goddammit, orderly, where are you?"

"Murray isn't here. Perhaps I can be of assistance," a man responded. Must be one of the new recruits – poor bastard, to be caught in the middle of this.

"Ghazis coming, Private," he moaned. "Can't move. Seen what they do to captives. Their women have knives. For the love of God, man, pull out my revolver and shoot me, and run."

"You're not going to die, Dr. Watson," the cool voice continued. "You are not in Maiwand. You are safe at home, but you have a high fever."

The desert sun beat down upon his head. But the words, cool as a drink of water… "H. Home?" Was that why he felt the desert heat, but his arm only ached instead of being shot to a mess of blood and agony?

"Yes. You are in London, in your room. Perhaps a cool bath would help reduce your temperature."

A cool bath, oh what a lovely mirage this was. To spend his last moments of life thinking he was taking a cool bath instead of dying in the heat would be lovely. "T. Tepid water for a fever patient."

"Very well, Doctor." The voice went away.

While the new private was gone, he travelled from Maiwand to London. It was winter – November? December? – and he shivered violently. Was it snowing outside? He couldn't afford his hotel room, but the only places he could afford now were in filthy parts of the city, freezing; he'd be dead before spring. Murray – no, his orderly was gone, he never came back to London. This new private, maybe he knew of some decent lodgings for destitute wounded men.

"I'll help get you into the bath," the private said – oh, he'd returned.

"Cold. So cold," he moaned. "Ask the landlady if I can have a little more coal on credit."

"Ah." For some reason the private sounded almost pleased. "I am no medical man, Dr. Watson, but your symptoms of chills and fever are highly indicative of a recurrence of malaria, which you have suffered at least once in the past, if I am not mistaken."

Malaria. He wasn't freezing in a Limehouse garret, nor sweltering under an Afghanistan sun. Malaria, and he had some –

"Quinine," he and the private said simultaneously.

"I'll mix a dose before I get you into the bath," the private said. "That should reduce your fever, and may let you sleep long enough to weather out the worst of the latest symptoms."

"Thank you, Private," he whispered. Something niggled at him through the chills and the heat. What if…what if that were illusion too, and the fever merely his mind trying to protect him from the horror that awaited him? "But. But if. If we are in the desert, and we are left to the Ghazis – "

"There's one horse left, and I'll get you on it before we leave," the private said – a bit more warmly than his last exchanges. A long cool hand rested on his forehead. "Don't fear, Doctor. I will never leave you."

Relief – almost as good as the thought of the bath. "Name, Private," he murmured. "Need your name. Recommend you to the Lists, for gallantry."

Warmth from that voice, warm as he hoped his bath would be. "I will tell you my name when you are well again, my dear fellow."  


**Author's Note:**

> For the [](http://www.dreamwidth.org/profile?user=watsons_woes)[](http://www.dreamwidth.org/profile?user=watsons_woes)**watsons_woes** 2012 July Writing Prompt #13 (July 29) –Illness (of any type, however that inspires you)


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